


mugged

by poiregourmande



Category: Buzzfeed Pero Like (Webseries), Buzzfeed: Worth It (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, office fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 12:39:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18521713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poiregourmande/pseuds/poiregourmande
Summary: Adam Bianchi is a man of habit. Everyday he gets to the office bright and early and makes coffee in his favourite mug. One morning, the mug is gone.





	mugged

  
Adam Bianchi is a man of habit. It’s not always easy to stick to a routine at a job like Buzzfeed, but before the daily hecticness begins, he likes to start everyday the same way.  
  
8:38 — drop off his stuff at his desk (early, but it allows him a bit of calm before everyone gets to the office with requests).  
8:40 — make a cup of coffee in the Gudetama mug Annie gave him for his birthday (one cream, no sugar).  
8:45 — sit down at his desk, enjoy his coffee and catch up on e-mails until  
between 9:02 and 9:07 — the madness occurs.  
  
He can roll with any punches that comes his way, if he has these twenty minutes to himself.  
  
Tuesday starts wrong. Stuck in traffic longer than usual because of an accident, he gets to the canteen at 8:52, and his mug is missing from the cupboard.  
  
Major party foul.  
  
It is generally acknowledged that the shelf of Buzzfeed mugs is fair game for everyone, and that you don’t touch the shelf of novelty mugs unless it’s yours.  
  
Adam goes through all cupboards and the dishwasher, although he distinctly remembers handwashing it and putting it away the previous afternoon.  
  
No dice.  
  
He sighs, grabs a Buzzfeed mug, although they’re too small for his own tastes, and makes his coffee, knowing he’s only gonna have time to answer two emails at best before he gets distracted.  
  
He hurries through the Pero Like bullpen to get to his desk when something catches his attention.  
  
Curly, here before the rest of his team, is scrolling through Instagram, happy-go-luckily sipping tea from a Gudetama mug. Now, Adam wouldn’t normally jump to conclusions, but there’s a tiny chip at the bottom from when he almost dropped it on concrete, that time Steven decided to have a team meeting outside.  
  
Curly notices him staring and turns to him, grinning. “Morning!  
  
“That mug,” Adam says blankly, in lieu of a greeting.  
  
“I know! So cute, isn’t it? A bit like you,” he adds in a stage-whisper, and winks.  
  
“It’s mine,” Adam says, in what’s supposed do be an annoyed tone but comes out a bit squeaky. Heat pools in his cheeks.  
  
“Oh is it? Baby, I had no idea! I just thought it was adorable — don’t you think it’s a whole mood? Wouldn’t mind a little nap myself,” he says, stretching and yawning for show, pulling a little sleepy face like the egg on the mug.  
  
For some reason, Adam zeroes in on Curly’s shoulder, left exposed by his stretching in his low-cut sweater. He might have stared for a few seconds or a few hours, before he catches himself and backs away. “It’s fine. Just — just clean it after you're done, yeah?”  
  
He doesn’t seem to notice he’s actually walking away from his desk, and Curly doesn’t point it out.  
  
“You got it!” Curly calls, raising his mug in a cheers-like motion. “Sorry again, _corazón_.”  
  
A warmth that has nothing to do with the coffee spreads through Adam’s chest. Against all odds, the rest of the day goes pretty well.  
  
***

  
Wednesday, 8:40. No Gudetama mug to be found in any of the cupboards nor the dishwasher. Adam groans and goes straight to Curly’s desk, figuring he probably just forgot to put it back.  
  
That would be too much to ask, apparently.  
  
Curly’s sitting at his desk, already deep in concentration in front of Premiere, absent-mindedly sipping a foamy latte from Adam’s favourite mug.  
  
Adam leans against the desk and pokes Curly so he looks up.  
  
“Oh hi!” Curly answers, entirely too cheerful for the situation.  
  
“Are you kidding me?” Adam says dryly.  
  
“What? Oh the mug!” Curly takes a sip, to add insult to injury.  
  
Adam tries not to notice the way his tongue darts out to gather some stray foam on his upper lip.  
  
“It’s the perfect size for a latte, and I knew you wouldn’t mind, because you’re a sweetheart.” The worst thing about this is how sincere Curly looks, beaming up at him.  
  
Strike that. The worst thing about this is Curly’s hand reaching out to give Adam’s wrist a gentle squeeze.  
  
Or the uninvited smile creeping its way across Adam’s face even though his annoyance is every bit justified.  
  
“It’s my favourite mug,” Adam says lamely.  
  
“I know, _papi_. Means a lot that you’re letting me borrow it.”  
  
Curly’s hand is still on his. His warm brown eyes bright and soft.  
  
Ah, hell.  
  
Adam can’t stay mad, can’t say no to him.  
  
“I should...” Adam nods vaguely towards his desk.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Neither of them move.  
  
The spell is only broken when Julissa drops in the next seat and starts chatting away about their next project. Adam’s hand slips away before he becomes the next target of Pero Like gossips.  
  
He drinks half of Curly’s latte, eyeing him above the mug, before sauntering away, an uncharacteristic spring in his step.  
  
***  
  
Thursday, 8:40. Still no Gudetama mug. This time, Adam gives an almost fond sigh and heads straight to Curly’s desk, anticipation building in the pit of his stomach...  
  
And promptly crashing.  
  
Curly’s not at his desk, his computer is turned off, and the Pero Like bullpen is empty.  
  
Shoulders sagging, he drags his feet to his own desk, drops into his chair. It’s only then that he notices it.  
  
His mug. Gudetama, chipped and all, full of steaming coffee. He takes a sip.  
  
The first real good sip of coffee he’s had all week — exactly how he takes it, one cream, no sugar, in _his_ mug. He sinks deeper into his chair and lets out a blissful sigh.  
  
“You’re welcome,” a cheerful voice says behind him.  
  
Adam whirls in his chair to see Curly, leaning against a support beam nearby. The pleased look on his face at a successful ambush would be creepy if he didn’t just make Adam’s day.  
  
Adam pulls Andrew’s empty desk chair closer, an invitation.  
  
Curly doesn’t need to be asked twice.  
  
“Thanks,” Adam says, lifting his mug. “It’s exactly how I like it.”  
  
“I know. You’re a very predictable man, Adam Bianchi.”  
  
“People say I’m a mystery.”  
  
“That’s cause they don’t take the time to observe.” Curly rolls ever so slightly closer in his chair. “They don’t know what they’re missing.”  
  
Adam rolls the rest of the way before their knees bump together. “And what’s that?”  
  
Curly leans in, hands on each armrest, bracketing Adam. “Why don’t you show me?”  
  
Lips meet, fingers curl into beards and hearts thump, heavy.  
  
Adam Bianchi is a man of habit, but some habits can change.  
  
8:45 — make out (at work).  
between 9:02 and 9:07 — ask a cute boy out on a date (he says yes).  
9:08: drink (now cold) coffee.


End file.
